


The 3 Fears of a Single Man

by artificialmac



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: AllStars 2, Depression, Drinking, Drugs, Minor Character Death, Needles, Phi Phi O'hara - Freeform, Post Drag-Race, Post-Canon, References to Depression, References to Drugs, RuPaul's Drag Race References, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 15:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16410965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmac/pseuds/artificialmac
Summary: Phi Phi is famous, so she should be happy. Or at least that's what she thinks. So why does everything still suck?





	The 3 Fears of a Single Man

"Why don’t you ever date anyone?”

Jaremi sighed. This question again? He supposes he should have been prepared for it. On the rare occasions he does go out with ‘friends' they always ask him. He usually lies. Jaremi goes to open his mouth to tell them the same thing he has been saying for the past seven years, but the words that come out of his mouth are not the ones he had intended. 

“If you must know, my three biggest fears in life are being alone, falling in love, and death. Relationships with others, even friendly ones, always lead to one or more of these things.”

The table went quiet and Jaremi just looked at them. He knew he should feel embarrassed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much. Someone to his left coughed and changed the subject. Jaremi counted down the minutes until it was socially acceptable to leave. When that time finally arrived, he made sure to play up his symptoms to the point of someone asking him if he was all right. 

“Yeah, I’m ok, just my stomach is not feeling too hot.” 

He did the fake brush it off thing, and made sure everyone else was aware of his condition before acting like he was relenting, and left. 

It was on the sidewalk walking home that he allowed himself to sink into his own thoughts. 

Being alone. 

He had been alone for most of his life. His childhood was plagued with diabetes riddled kids with too much aggression and not enough love in their lives. Jaremi always pointed that out to them; they just hit him harder. Friends only wanted his brain or his money, neither of which he had much of, but offered them up anyway, until there was none left for himself. 

There were a few people who had managed to stick by him though, not that he wanted that; actually he actively encouraged them not to . He wasn’t an easy person to get along with. Far too many experiences had taught him to keep others at least an arms distance away. He told them this, yet they stayed. Jaremi assumed it was because they thought they could change him. Everyone always wanted to change everyone else. No one ever actually succeeded though, and all those that were desperate to prove him wrong were gone one day.

So he supposes he is used to this, being alone. When he says he fears it, he means in the hours of one and four, when the world isn’t quite real. He is used to that feeling, so he always goes home with someone. Anyone really. Doesn’t particularly matter. More often than not, it’s a young lanky thing that saw him on TV once. 

They always smell the same.

Maybe its sad that Jaremi is used to this, this waiting until his lover is asleep to hold his hand. Or the smoke filling the bathroom like steam. Or even the pain he feels when he can’t fall asleep. 

He always leaves in the morning. Its his routine. Others might think it sad, looking for company in all the places but himself, but at least he isn’t on drugs anymore.

Falling in love.

He had fallen in love once. It was the worst thing that ever happened to him. He had fallen for a man who made his world brighter by simply existing in it. Every moment was filled with joy and magic. Jaremi had never felt anything like it before. He had felt wanted and loved in so many different ways, and he was terrified the entire time. There were dates he would wear around like scars, kisses he never wanted to end, and moments that never seemed to stop taking his breath away. 

It was wonderful…until it wasn’t.

Dates became fewer and far between, kisses were short but not sweet, and those wonderfully intimate moments were replaced with angry words that still stung the back of his eyes if he thought about them too hard. 

He blamed himself really. He had been the one to pull away. Maybe because he had wanted to be followed, pursued as if he was the finest treasure. He wasn’t. He wasn’t pursued and he wasn’t a treasure. The last conversation he had with the man he had loved proved as much.

He vowed on that day, to the bottle in his hand and the needle in his arm, to never again let any man get close enough to break him. 

Dying

He had witnessed death once. 

Actually more than once. 

Actually many times. 

It seemed that the few people he did care for, always seemed to die on him. That really said more about him than it did them though. He remembers his mother’s death. He had only been six years old, but every sight, smell, and sound was committed to memory. She had laid in the hospital for months, with each passing day growing more and more pale. Jaremi hadn’t known what was going on, truth be told, at that age, he didn’t really care. It wasn’t real to him until she was gone. And then all the things he hadn’t realized were suddenly right in his face. He had no choice but to face it.

He supposes all his fears together are involved in dying. Being alone and leaving the ones you love. 

It isn’t fair. He thinks. It isn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to be miserable and sad and lonely. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t know what he deserves, but it isn’t this. This feeling of worthlessness every damn day. He should be having the time of his life, he is famous for god sakes. Famous for the wrong reasons, but still. 

He should be happy.


End file.
